


Waiting Room

by ro_mm_ck



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-19
Updated: 2007-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_mm_ck/pseuds/ro_mm_ck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Spike weren't so beautiful Angel would be able to sleep at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> For velvetwhip because she is tired of all the HP nonsense. I'm sorry, doll. I really tried to do angst... but it's not in my brain apparently because I just wanted Angel to be a bit happy. It's not total fluff like normal... but well, you'll see.

If Spike weren't so beautiful Angel would be able to sleep at night. If Spike weren't so sure of how to use his body to get what he wanted, Angel could avoid his current state of erection from watching him walk away. If Spike weren't so helpful Angel would be able to hate him. If Spike weren't a lot of things... Angel's circumstances... they'd be easier.

As it stands, however, Angel's life is hard. He watches someone he loves play around with that vapid idiot Harmony as a way to ease the tension. He tries not to remember what it felt like to lay in his bed with Spike's ghost standing next to him. He tries not to remember how it felt to let Spike's voice wash over him.

"Angelcakes?" he hears from beside him, breaking the spell. Angel looks up and predictably sees Lorne leaning over him. "What's going on in that large noggin of yours?"

Lorne knows Angel doesn't like to be read unless he asks. It's an invasion of privacy Lorne only performs if asked or if things have seriously gone wrong. His expression betrays his concern for his boss and friend. Lorne sits on the edge of the chair in front of Angel's desk and waits.

"Just thinking about work," Angel lied weakly. Lorne looked at him, clearly not convinced. Sighing, Angel stood from his chair and walked over to the treated windows to look down at the sunshine streaked city. "Working some things out in my head."

"That much was obvious," Lorne said with a chuckle. "You practically radiate inner turmoil even to the untrained eye. Do you want to talk about it?"

Shaking his head, Angel didn't look back at his friend but continued to look out at the city. The cars going by looked like smoothly walking insects from this height but it was Angel who felt small. He thought of his childe and sighed again.

"Are those Atlas sighs on sale today?" Lorne asked. "Did you get them two for one?"

Angel turned around and rolled his eyes at the demon. "I'm not going to sing," he said, looking into Lorne's red eyes for help. Angel wasn't sure where his thoughts or his destiny were going to take him but he couldn't figure out where to go from here. He would always be in love with Buffy in some small way, but it felt like the one who could truly make him lose his soul again was closer than he'd originally thought.

"And my ear drums thank you for that," Lorne said with a chuckle. "Just hum a few bars for me, it's less painful." Lorne sat and listened as Angel hummed a bit of a classical tune he was sure he'd heard before. His eyes went wide as he saw what the vampire had been wrestling with. "You certainly do love to torture yourself, don't you, Mr. Life of Eternal Struggle?"

"Apparently so," Angel grumbled. "Did you see anything?"

"Oh I saw plenty and I'm blessing my crazy demon mother for making my skin green," Lorne said with a laugh. "The things in that brain of yours would make the ladies on Hollywood Boulevard blush, Angel. You sure that Angelus isn't pushing things to the front there?"

Angel's eyes went wide for a moment before he turned back to the window. "He's always at the front, Lorne. You know that," he said as he put his fingers to the glass and sighed. "I don't need Angelus to think about Spike though, he just pushes the old memories up to make me suffer."

"Didn't look like you were suffering in there," Lorne said with a grin that could be heard in his voice. Walking up to the troubled vampire in front of him, he put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed a bit trying to offer some comfort. "In all honestly, doll. I don't see your soul getting lost here. I don't see Angelus being any more free than he is now. I can't tell you exactly what I do see because it looks like you've got to find that out for yourself. Let yourself be happy, Angel. He's missing you, too." At Angel's disbelieving expression, Lorne continued as he walked from his position beside him toward the door.. "Do you think he would run around with Harmony if he weren't trying to avoid being with you? I mean I love the girl. She's fine for a vampire, no offense, but she's just a waiting room, kid."

Angel watched as Lorne closed the door behind him. His mind wasn't any clearer, in fact he felt all the more lost. The only bright spot in the visit had been Lorne's promise that he wouldn't lose his soul. Angelus grumbled from within him at the prospect of being caged forever. Angel pressed his forehead against the window, calmed by the cool glass. The lights behind his eyes were flooded with visions of beds shared all across Europe and Asia, sometimes with Dru and Darla, sometimes alone. They'd spend hours fighting and fucking, usually ending with Spike on all fours in front of him.

Eyes flicking with the memory of the blissful sensation of being inside of his childe, Angel suppressed a curse toward Angelus. Spike was the one thing they could both agree on. They both wanted him. Angelus wanted to dominate him, to see him bleed, to fuck him until he couldn't walk for a week. Angel, if he were completely honest, wanted those things too, but he also wanted to feel Spike's soft lips and be able to touch his pale chest covered with lithe muscles.

Angel shrugged his shoulders attempting to work some of the tension out of them. Cracking his neck he walked out the door toward the elevators. There was no way he was going to be able to sit his office with the enormous erection rubbing against his pants. "Harmony," he said gruffly to his secretary. "I'll be upstairs if anyone needs me."

"Got it, boss," she said, writing something on a post-it before returning to filing her nails.

Alone in the elevator, the walls felt like they were closing in on him. In this small space he couldn't hold the memories back. It was like when the First had shown him every evil thing he'd ever done except this time he was flooded with visions of naked flesh flushed with stolen blood. An eternity passed before the doors opened to his suite. Stepping out, he started on the buttons of his shirt. Desperate to feel naked flesh even if was only his own, he shrugged off the shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

"Looking good," Spike said, walking over from his bathroom, wrapped in a towel. His eyebrow was raised in an unspoken taunt and his body was still damp from the shower he'd apparently just taken. His hair was curling against his head, darker than usual.

"Spike," Angel growled. "What are you doing here?"

"Using your shower, mate. I thought that much would be obvious," he said, walking toward where his leather jacket lay draped over a chair in the living room. Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, he turned back toward his Sire and smiled. "Had a hard day, have you?"

"What makes you say that?" Angel asked, his voice still laced with confrontation.

"It's the middle of the day," he said, pointing to the sunshine outside. "Now normal little vampire boys and girls would be getting their beauty sleep right now, but you're anything but normal."

"Get out, Spike," Angel ordered.

"I'm not walking through this building in just a towel no matter how much you'd enjoy it," Spike said with a self-impressed grin. "I just came to use the shower, mate. Fred sprayed us both with some sludge mixture she was working on and your shower was the closest unoccupied stall, okay?"

"Why didn't you just tell me that at the beginning?" Angel asked, exasperated.

"And ruin my fun, I don't think so," he said, taking the final drag from his cigarette. Smashing it into the ashtray, he picked up his leather jacket and headed toward the bedroom. "You have a pair of pants I can borrow until I can pick up some clothes?" he asked, rummaging through Angel's drawers without a care in the world.

"Get out of there," Angel barked. "None of my clothes are going to fit you, Spike."

"A ha," Spike said, lifting up a pair of pajama pants. "Perfect. Drawstring," he offered as an explanation. Dropping his towel without a thought, he pulled the pants on and tied them around his waist. He didn't miss the short intake of breath from Angel. Turning toward his sire he saw a look he remembered from a lifetime ago. He smelled the air and found desire and fear tickling his senses. Eyes flashing yellow for a moment before he turned to pick up his towel and jacket. "Thanks for the shower."

Angel watched Spike leave his suite, barely able to suppress a the growl in his throat. His childe wasn't dumb, nor was he oblivious. He'd been intelligent when he'd been turned and Angelus had made sure he learned his station. Drusilla wasn't capable of teaching how to be a vampire so it was his great pleasure to take her place. Spike had known Angel was aroused at the sight of him and he'd been aroused in turn, Angel hadn't missed that either.

He knew now why Spike could never truly make him happy, nor could Buffy. They were both reminders of what Angelus had done, both reminders of pain and death and destruction. He could take comfort in them, but they couldn't bring him that moment of true happiness because he would always be reminded of what he'd brought to them. Angel smiled at that and quickly hit the button for the elevator. He wasn't ever going to be truly happy, but it was going to feel good to let Angelus have a taste of what they both wanted.


End file.
